Don't Go Far Off
by suchbeautifuldoubt
Summary: After Quinn's accident, Santana spends all the free time she has by her best friend's bedside, hoping that she'll wake up. Quinntana. Quinn/Santana.


She gets the call exactly twenty minutes after it happens.

In the silence of the courthouse, the loud chorus of _Stacy's Mom_ doesn't quite fit in, but Santana can't help but smirk 'cause Rachel's face is the epitome of upset and she simply flips open her phone and answers with a satisfied, "Hello, Judy!"

But the older Fabray doesn't answer back with her usual _"Hello, Santana, how are you… is Quinn with you? She isn't picking up her phone." _Instead, the woman's voice is panicked as she spits what Santana thinks are words in a manner that makes Santana feel as if she were a snail, slow and uncoordinated.

Through the messes and clutters of words, the head cheerio picks up six distinctive words. Six words that make everything around her freeze.

_"Quinn got hit by a truck." _

She's out of her seat as soon as her brain processes the words. Her legs are moving faster than they ever have and she's not sure how she hasn't tripped yet, because the heels she's in are ridiculous and they're only hindering her movement.

There are voices behind her, demanding to know where in God's name she's going, but she doesn't have the time to answer. Especially since she's pulling off her heels and charging for the main door, car keys in hand.

* * *

><p>She makes it to the hospital in 15 minutes, at 6 o'clock on the dot, rushing into the emergency room with a rabid look in her eyes that causes the nurse to stop her and ask her if she's looking for help.<p>

"Quinn. My friend, she… car crash." She manages to say, eyes darting around the waiting room full of sick kids and people who've accidentally cut their hands open. No Quinn. _Where's Quinn? _She briefly realizes she didn't give Quinn's last name, they probably need that right? Santana turns to the elderly nurse, crazy eyes trying to focus on her kind face, "Fabray. Her last name. Where is she?"

The nurse is staring at her with a slight confusion and Santana's impatience is catching up to her as she gets ready to run out of the emergency room and to the rest of the wings in search of her friend. She was wearing a hot pink bridesmaid's dress that matched Santana's own, so finding her shouldn't prove to be a difficulty.

Just as she's getting ready to turn on her heel and dart out of the room that smells like antiseptic cream and disinfectants, the nurse nods and, in a voice that sounds too slow and calm to Santana's ears, tells Santana that a girl was brought into the surgery rooms not too long ago.

Santana wants to demand the nurse bring her to Quinn - she just needs to see her best friend - she almost forces the nurse to take her to the blonde, but a hand settles on her shoulders and when she turns, she meets the worried blue-grey eyes of Judy Fabray.

They have to wait, Judy tells her with a voice that's shakier than her hands.

All they can do is wait.

* * *

><p>Five cups of stale hospital coffee and two ham and cheese sandwiches later, Judy Fabray is called over by a doctor. Santana feels the need to stand up and demand answers, but by the look on Judy's face, the brunette should probably stay rooted in her seat, as she has been for the past four hours.<p>

Santana doesn't know what to think. In fact, she doesn't even feel like she's in a hospital. She doesn't feel like she's worrying hard enough and she doesn't feel like sitting in a stupid chair while Quinn is being operated on is helpful in anyway. She barely contains the frustrated growl the threatens to spill from her lips.

When the doctor leaves the room, Judy returns the the seat beside Santana's. Her face is stoic, but Santana can see the tears collecting on the brim of her eyes.

"She's comatose."

Santana's world nearly blacks out.

* * *

><p>She's in the intensive care unit, so only Judy is allowed to see her. Santana stays just outside of double doors that lead to a wing that look just a little paler than the rest of the already stark hospital.<p>

Santana's upset and angry with everything around her, but she's sad too. She doesn't think it's fair that Judy has to go see Quinn alone. She thinks it's even less fair that she's not allowed to go see the only girl that she wants to keep even after high school.

It's just not fair that Quinn Fabray of all people had to get hit by a stupid truck. Santana has half the mind to find the truck driver and tear him a new asshole.

A breath escapes her chest, choppy and shaking. It's only then does she notice the scalding hot tears running down her cheeks.

She promises herself to find the driver and sue the shit out of him.

* * *

><p>Only two weeks later is she allowed to see Quinn, after she's been moved into the coma ward.<p>

The first thing Santana notices are the tangle of wires and tubes and god, Quinn still looks so undeniably gorgeous despite all the machinery and the hospital robe. That's unfair, too, Santana muses, that even though she's in one of the most depressing place on earth, Quinn looks like some fairy that just drifted into a bed surrounded by machines to take a small nap.

A nap that Santana wishes she'd wake up from already.

* * *

><p>Judy doesn't go to visit Quinn very often, but Santana understands. Judy Fabray had never been one to understand how to handle her emotions for her daughter and Quinn Fabray had never stood still long enough to be handled or understood.<p>

But here, in this quiet hospital wing where the only sounds are the consistent beeping of Quinn's heart monitor and the occasional foot steps of nurses, Quinn is as still as a rock- allowing the brunette beside her bed to attempt to understand her as best she can.

All Santana wants is to see those stupid hazel eyes flicker open. She wants to feel the hand in hers give a little twitch. So she clings on tighter to said hand, wishing that it was grip back. If only Quinn would throw her a sign, tell her everything is okay- that Quinn is going to be just fine.

From eight o'clock in the morning to three-thirty in the afternoon, Santana sits in school, fingers tapping incessantly against the tables and feet tapping impatiently as she waits for the bell to ring. As soon as the last bell chimes, the girl is out of the hell hole in into her car, heading for St. Rita's hospital.

Glee club has gotten harder and she doesn't go anymore. She doesn't want the questions.

"_How's Quinn doing?"_

"_Is she okay?" _

"_When will she be back?"_

Santana wants to slap Rachel Berry in the face and tell her that it's all her damn fault. She wants to scream and yell and kick. She wants to blame every last one of them for not caring about Quinn enough- why had none of them dropped by the hospital themselves? Selfish pricks. She wants to push them all in front of truck- make them feel what Quinn probably felt.

She wants to do all of that, but she doesn't want to tell them that _no_… Quinn isn't showing any sign of waking up. She doesn't want to tell them because she's not quite sure she's even told herself yet.

So she sits alone by Quinn's bed, right hand gripping Quinn's hand as her left hand does her Calculus homework. She pretends that Quinn's only napping.

* * *

><p>Brittany asks to see Quinn on a Thursday morning, while Santana is staring at the back of her locker, trying to remember what to bring to her second period class.<p>

Santana says no to Brittany for the first time before walking away.

She doesn't see Brittany staring at her like a lost puppy.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, she reads to Quinn. She reads from the blonde's favorite books, both adventure and poetry. Hell, sometimes she sits there with a script of some play in her hand as she adopts the voices of the characters and acts out the play via her voice.<p>

The doctors told her that it may get through to Quinn, so she doesn't feel embarrassed as she raises her voice an octave and in an amazing impression of Rachel Berry (she uses Rachel's voice for every ill-fortuned female character) as she reads, _"Melchior- Oh!" _before cutting off effectively, quirking an eyebrow towards Quinn's still body as she wonders how the blonde could read this crap.

Even then, she continues on with the script.

When she finishes, she pulls out Quinn's well-loved copy of _The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe._

* * *

><p>Three weeks later, when she runs out of books to read to Quinn, Judy hands her a box of old books that Quinn kept under her bed. They all look worn and over-read, but Santana smiles and nods before placing the box in the corner of Quinn's hospital room and wandering over to Quinn's bedside with three books that she had grabbed from the box.<p>

The first book she pulls is a collection of poems that Quinn's grandfather had bound for her when she was fourteen. Santana likes the look of the small book, because it's been read so much that the binding is falling off and The leather cover has worn from proud brown to a caramel colour that matches her own skin.

As she flips open to the first page, she grasps onto Quinn's hand tightly, clearing her throat before she begins, "Don't go far off, not even for a day, because… because… I don't know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere asleep."

Santana's hand grasps tighter onto Quinn's hand, swallowing thickly before she continues, "Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart."

Leave it to her to pick the book with the poem that makes her want to cry, Santana muses, moving her chair closer to Quinn's bed before she pulls her legs underneath herself.

"Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second my dearest, because in that moment, you'll have gone so far. I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking, 'will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?"

Santana tries not to cry, sniffling as she closes the book and brings Quinn's hand up to hers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of the blonde's hand.

Then she feels it.

The gentle grasping of Quinn's hand in hers.

Quinn heard her.

Quinn's hand is clinging to hers.

Santana barely finds her voice in time before screaming for a doctor, a nurse. She screams loudly, until her voice cracks and her throat feels sore.

Her Quinn is awake.

* * *

><p>A month later, with Quinn out of the hospital and prancing about as if a truck had never pulverized her, Santana asks the blonde out.<p>

Quinn stares at her like she's grown an extra head, but says yes none the less.

At the end of their date - a dinner on top of a hill with the starry sky and the best bacon-wrapped breadsticks Santana could find - Quinn is curled up in Santana's arms.

Santana can smell the coconut of Quinn's shampoo and the feel of Quinn's soft skin against hers makes she want to melt into the girl. But that's strange, so Santana doesn't say a thing.

Quinn's soft voice cuts through the silence of their night, gently breaking Santana from her thoughts, "Pablo Neruda."

"Hm?"

"You read me Pablo Neruda's poem the day I woke up."

Santana can only smile and press a kiss to the girl's temple before nodding and nudging Quinn the stomach, "Yeah. Don't go far off, 'kay Quinn? Not ever again. The nurse that bathed you every day was hot and I didn't know who I was more jealous of. You for getting washed by a lady that hot or her…" Santana trailed off, smiling at the bemused look on Quinn's face, "for seeing your gorgeous body before I do."

Quinn's famous eyebrow quirk draws a long and loud laugh from Santana.

The blonde lets out an indignant huff before struggling to get up from Santana's arms. But strong arms pull her back down, trapping her body against Santana's.

The brunette has stopped laughing, merely smiling softly at Quinn as she presses the softest kiss to her lips before whispering in the gentlest voice Quinn has ever heard, "Don't leave me, even for an hour…"

* * *

><p>Poem used is the work of Pablo Neruda.<p>

Glee and its characters belong to Fox.

This is a work of fiction intended purely for entertainment.

So don't sue me 'cause I ain't got no cash fo yo pockets, yeh.

Written for a friend's birthday. :)


End file.
